


The High Inquisitor

by J_BlackDragon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28866828
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_BlackDragon/pseuds/J_BlackDragon
Summary: If someone had ever told Harry Potter in his school years that he would one day hold the position of the disgusting toad Dolores Umbridge - he would have spat in the face of the impudent. Except that Harry Potter was now the one sitting at the Hogwarts staff table with a tight smile, being none other than the High Inquisitor.
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Comments: 21
Kudos: 181





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Генеральный Инспектор](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20805779) by [J_BlackDragon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_BlackDragon/pseuds/J_BlackDragon). 



> Once again, Harry Potter finds himself in the midst of events that he did not plan to participate in. Well, let's see what happens.
> 
> Inspired by the song: Sick-Chelsea Wolfe  
> I plan to update about once a month, but if there is a good motivation, then maybe it will be faster.  
> This is translation of my own work in russian.  
> Many thanks to James_Remus_Regulus_Black for beta-reading this work!

When can a person be considered an adult? And what about a mage? Many people overestimate and underestimate age at the same time, because it's all about the details. Unfortunately, or fortunately, only they decide on complex issue of becoming a conscious being. Details: environment, availability of knowledge and various goods, time… Many things can play their role. And then there is the talent, the predispositions, being the "chosen one".

Tom Riddle thought about all this as he calmly surveys the assembled wizards at the tables in the great hall. His peers fidgeted in their seats, trying to catch up after the short vacation, exchanging news, gossip, and opinions about useless nonsense. Sometimes it seemed to Tom that they had too much. So much, that it prevented them from learning to really use what they had. And that was very much in favor of the head boy, who could act as an adviser and mentor in many matters. He’s lucky that not everyone is used to thinking with their own brains, so ready to rely on others. This forced him to suppress his irritation at their short-sightedness.

Tom Riddle is now sixteen and the prefect of the faculty, a fine and well-respected student. The teachers are awed with his desire for knowledge, focus, discipline and ability to reason with even the most violent students of Slytherin. The underclassmen have heard a lot about him, and the upperclassmen are ready to do a lot for his attention. The school is full of amazing rumors about his incredible ability to solve any problem with the help of his knowledge and charisma. No one dares to so much as mention his past.

Tom Riddle is sixteen years old, and he has assembled a curious group of children with famous surnames who are passionate about politics, magic, and the pureblood ideology of their fathers and mothers. The subjects of their meetings don't end there, but who cares? No one can challenge the appearance of decency of this group, as long as he keeps all the participants in a tight grip. And he does so perfectly.

Tom Riddle is only sixteen, but last year he found the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, the legacy of his great ancestor Salazar. And in the summer, just before the end of the fifth year, a monster living there killed a girl, which served to create the darkest of known artifacts. Elated with triumph, Riddle set out that summer to search for his relatives, making an effort to avoid being discovered by ministerial surveillance…

And all for the sake of discovering an empty, ramshackle cabin and an equally empty Riddle estate. Both buildings are habitable, as if their owners were here but ten minutes ago. He waits, but to no avail. He comes back again – and is left with nothing once again. Tom wants to take out his rage on somebody, but stops, feeling something strange, like somebody's attentive gaze. Every time, every time he's about to lose control, the gaze comes back and doesn't let go.

For the first time in the three years following the bombing of London, Riddle feels trapped, confined. This is maddening and, of course, does not add anything good to his mood. He shares his fears with the diary, which is also at a loss – after all, the knowledge of the parts of the soul is equal between the two of them. The annoying feeling of being followed disappears only when Tom gets on the Hogwarts Express, leaving the youth with many questions and a clear desire to find an answer to them.

Hogwarts is as beautiful as ever and, thank magic, still open, despite the war and the events of last summer. However, this year there are fewer students – many parents decided not to risk their children at such a time. There are only those who do not doubt the power of the ancient castle and the teachers, refugees and those who have nowhere to go. Some of the Muggleborns are pale and visibly nervous, remembering Salazar's monster. They don’t know that this year the Heir has decided not to release the basilisk. No one wants Hogwarts to close.

The orderly flow of thoughts is interrupted by the abrupt movement of his neighbor at the table: as always, the noisy Alphard, not so aristocratically poking at Malfoy's shoulder, is unable of anything but attracting attention.

'Look, only five of the first-years seem to be from the ancient families of Britain.'

Abraxas frowns, but supports the conversation immediately, long used to his friend's irrepressible energy:

'What a pity. I can't say I'm surprised, though. After the incidents of last year and considering the war…'

'But just look at how many students there are from other countries. And all of them in our school!'

'They think Dumbledore is the last hope against Grindelwald,' said Tom, with a show of indifference.

'And you?' one of the younger Slytherins asked quickly.

'He is undoubtedly a great wizard. But he isn’t hurrying to that duel. I wonder why...'

To his right, someone caught the hint with a cheerful snort . Many people have recently asked themselves this same question, and even asked it from the great sorcerer personally. The answer is still vague, which brings certain thoughts to those who wanted to think.

Perhaps there really were few representatives of pureblood families among the firstyears this year. But it seems that even more refugees have arrived. On the one hand, the possibility of making international connections intrigues Tom, but on the other - the refugees and their views present some difficulties and absolutely unnecessary troubles. But Riddle would not have achieved his position in school if he hadn’t had the ability to cope with a variety of obstacles.

'Professor Kettleburn is back in his seat. When is Dippet finally going to kick him out?' Nott snorted, nodding at the faculty table.

'When the next beast bites his head off, nothing else will do it!' Alphard happily picked up the new topic.

This irrepressible chatter periodically strained, but was almost an inseparable feature of this representative of the Black family. It seemed that he would even talk to the dead, or at least turn it into an entertaining monologue.

'I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you: even if it happens, he won't notice and will continue the lesson in the form of a ghost,' Abraxas did not share his enthusiasm at all.

'Yes, he will. And he’ll leave us alone with some other bloodthirsty creature.'

The knights’ mocking chatter was suddenly interrupted by the voice of their leader:

'And who is this?'

The knights exchanged puzzled glances and also stared at the new addition to the teacher’s table.

To the left of the headmaster, an unfamiliar mage sat in an extra chair. He had neatly combed black hair, a couple of strands of which still fell over his forehead, and behind the thin rectangular glasses, it was completely impossible to distinguish the color of his eyes from this distance. The dark robe and the suit beneath it didn't stand out in any particular way, but an experienced observer can tell that everything was made of good materials.

'Looks young for a teacher,' Nott said disapprovingly.

'I wouldn't jump to conclusions, my friend Richard. We're still wizards,' Alphard nudged his neighbor with his shoulder, 'And you can look young at sixty if you wanted to.'

'I think I've heard of him,' said Malfoy, biting his lip thoughtfully. The whole company immediately turned their interested eyes on him. 'My father said something about rumors in the ministry of a new educational reform. And that it was the responsibility of a certain wizard who had returned from abroad and quickly gained the votes not only of the House of Commons, but also of the International Community of Magicians,' Tom Riddle raised an eyebrow in question, and Abrahas understood him without words, immediately explaining: 'But I have not heard any official statements, so I did not raise the topic today.'

Riddle nodded, accepting the answer.

'Why does the international community care about Hogwarts?' one of the Slytherins asked.

'Refugees. It's obvious.'

The real question was this: who had the time and energy to think about such things in the middle of a war? Even the murder of the girl on the school grounds was quickly hushed up as soon as the "criminal" was discovered. And the reforms required a lot of effort, money and influence, which everyone now invested in the war.

'Interesting. Well, we'll see,' Riddle nodded.

During the conversation, the sorting ceremony had already begun. Tom automatically noted the new snakes entering the great Salazar’s house, applauding them politely with everyone else, but all his curiosity was now directed at the new face at the teacher’s table. The man didn't look as startled as many newcomers at Hogwarts. But it was unlikely that he went to school here either or at least someone from Slytherin table would know something about him. However, perhaps the wizard was just holding his face well.

Finally, the sorting came to an end and Headmaster Dippet came up to the dais with a welcoming speech:

'Dear students, I am glad to welcome everyone back to these walls. In these difficult years, we must all stick together. I assure you, within the walls of Hogwarts, you are absolutely safe from the horrors of war and the one who started this war. We are happy to provide shelter and education to anyone who asks for help. This is what we did in previous years, and it will be the same in this one. The doors of Hogwarts are open to both British wizards and mages from abroad. Please make yourself at home. In addition, I want to say that this summer the Department of Education adopted an important amendment on the re-evaluation of educational standards in Britain. Harold Dylan Powell, an employee appointed by the department, will tell you more about it. Please welcome him.'

To the applause of the students, the young wizard got up from the table and went to replace the headmaster at the lectern, giving him a polite nod. It was also noticeable now that he was a little pale, but confident enough not to be shy in front of a crowd of students.

'Good to see you all, and thank you for the warm welcome,' the man smiled slightly nodding to the audience. 'My name, as you have just learned, is Harold Powell. I am the High Inquisitor appointed by the Ministry. My tasks will include assessing the level of education within these walls and helping fill the gaps in knowledge that might arise due to the differences in culture and approache. We do not want our foreign guests to miss any of their usual programs, and I will try my best to avoid this. That is all. Thank you for your attention.'

The Inquisitor nodded and went back to his seat. Tom could not help noticing how the "we" in the man's speech turned into "I". A small sign of a leader. But was he a good one?

'Assessment of the level of education? I swear Kettleburn will fly out of the teacher's chair with the speed of a bludger!' to no one’s surprise, Black spoke first.

'Perhaps Dumbledore won't be able to underestimate you this year, Tom,' Pewsey said with a soft smile, tucking a curl behind her ear.

The prefect nodded, but only smiled inwardly. Dumbledore never underestimated him. He ignored his achievements in class - of course, but he definitely appreciated them. In a negative way. This was very annoying and caused a lot of problems for the Knights of Walpurgis. Perhaps this year, the the Gryffins’ Head of House will finally be too busy to pry into other people's affairs. But relying on something as ephemeral as luck wasn't exactly Riddle's style. Unless it was Felix Felicis.

***

If someone had told Harry Potter in his school years that he would one day hold the position of the disgusting toad Dolores Umbridge - he would have spat in their face. Except Harry Potter was now sitting at the Hogwarts staff table with a tight smile, being none other than the High Inquisitor.

After spending six months in 1943 the idea didn't seem as crazy to him as it had at first: and, believe me, he was now quite well versed in the various shades of insanity. Is it a joke: to live the life of the chosen one, to fulfill the prophecy, to be chosen again and spoil the work of your life? And save the magical world again, of course. And now he was once again going to save the magical world, but this time from himself, being in the past… Anyone would have gone mad if they haven’t already. And he had no choice, as usual.

Harry Potter was going to save everyone and try not to go out of his mind in the process. What else is new?


	2. Indirect recursion

The second week at Hogwarts went on as usual. This school year was marked by personal schedules and transgression training courses – and Merlin can see that Riddle has been looking forward to the latter.

Tom, like the rest of his knights, had successfully reached sixth year. Not that the others had any choice in the matter – good academic performance was a condition that if not met, excluded them from the inner circle. The Knights of Walpurgis did not spend so much time and effort to drop out now.

But not everything was so radiant. The question of the disappearance of Riddle`s potential family remained open: it was impossible to officially declare the disappearance, because though he could play the role of a poor orphan who wanted to find a home and for this purpose ran away for a short time from the orphanage, the relatives themselves remained an unknown variable. On his own, he managed to unearth little information. The easiest way was to instruct Malfoy to find out, but seeing the shack in a village only confirmed idea that maybe… His knights don’t need to know about this relation. The status of the Slytherin heir was good in itself.

Instead, Tom gave the command to inspect the refugees for any potential connections and talents. This drew attention of the entire company to the Inquisitor; the wizard had not only attended classes with checks, but also gathered around him large groups of students from different countries. The house had not yet formed a definite opinion about the man, but the foreigners were mostly treating him with clear confidence, as much as was possible in such trying times.

Riddle was present only during the inspection of a defense against the dark arts lesson, conducted by professor Merrison. This was somewhat surprising, since true to his reputation and desire to know everything, the prefect chose all possible subjects, and, therefore, the statistical probability of catching several checks was high. On that day, Powell was sitting at the back of classroom with a pile of parchment and a rather distant look, which was very at odds with the way he behaved in the corridors with refugees.

Slytherins from other courses, however, said that during inspections, Harold actively participated in the lesson, asked questions to students and professors, and shared interesting facts. It seems that the Inquisitor was just in a bad mood or tired during that one lesson. Which is not surprising; if the whispers about the additional subjects being prepared going around Hogwarts are true, it is surprising that he even managed to attend classes for all the courses in such a period.

With the rest of his plans, progress was relative: The Gray Lady still deftly avoided talking about the tiara, there was only a vague mention of Godric's artifact with the pathetic phrase, "he will appear only to a true Gryffindor in the hour of need", which seemed like nonsense to Tom. The artifacts of Salazar and Helga were unknown things, hidden in unknown places. Searching the Secret Room had yielded nothing, and the Hufflepuff power item might as well have been lying in a corner of the kitchen or their living room. More information was required.

At dinner, Slughorn fished Riddle out and asked him to bring the Inquisitor to one of the labs later, dropping off on the way that the Slug Club meeting would be quite early this year, which of course the knights also heard about:

'It's really early for meetings, he usually ties them to some event, and now it’ll be in the start of the year?' Black stared in surprise at Horace's hurrying back.

'I think our head of house noticed the new balance of power and wants to be on the good side of the ministry. Plus make a couple of dozen useful acquaintances — that's just like him,' Abraxas nodded, not looking away from the contents of his plate.

'Our old Sluggie will never miss out on an advantage!'

Tom nodded with a slight grin:

'And we need to take his example, this is a really good opportunity. If something goes wrong and heads start flying, think about who will get ahead.'

'The reform Party, of course,' Nott said lazily.

'Think bigger! Who has influence in this Party, connections, and money for reform...' Suddenly, Malfoy froze, staring at his plate. 'Wait a minute. If I understand correctly, that person could very well be ... Harold Powell! Our Inquisitor!'

At this Richard Nott only snorted contemptuously:

'Some ministry employee? Are you out of your mind, Malfoy?'

'You don't understand! He put forward this reform and has the support of the Mages Confederation! And if it works out, he and his Party will be in good standing not only in Britain, but also in the world, you know? Perhaps not personally, but his team will gain such influence that Dumbledore and his liberals never dreamed of!'

Dinner was suddenly becoming interesting. Tom felt an urgent need to share the information with his diary as soon as he had a quiet moment .

'We need to find out everything we can. Richard, I've heard that one of your relatives has a connection to the Mages Confederation. It would be… interesting to hear all the latest news. If Malfoy's right, that's great news.'

***

Meanwhile, in the office kindly provided to the Inquisitor, a conversation was taking place through a charmed mirror. Taught by bitter past experience, Harold used his knowledge from being a former Head Auror and not only avoided fireplaces for communication, but also placed a magic dome around himself, which would’ve been considered rude and a clear manifestation of distrust of the surrounding wizards, had there been any in the room. But... at Hogwarts, even walls have ears.

A middle-aged witch with blond hair pulled back into a braid was looking at Harold Powell from the mirror. She frowned slightly, but continued:

'In addition… None of the wizards from the Eastern countries have asked for shelter in Britain, so it is most likely that they will refuse.'

'We saw this coming, Violet, so it's okay. How are the other plans progressing?'

'I don't know what you have on the House of Lords, but the situation is gradually changing to our advantage. If everything continues at the same pace, the chance to get support for new projects is very high.'

Harry smiled. He didn't really like the methods he had to resort to, but the truth was that this was not a game where you could win honestly. No matter how much Kingsley had championed Harry`s appointment as Head Auror, it was impossible to stay in position without learning to recognize the impact of politics and ambiguous moves on the success of operations and law enforcement. The proverbial "greater good", be it damned by Voldemort.

'However, the director of Beauxbatons is still stirring up conflict,' Violet continued, 'The argument that you might be a Grindelwald spy is ridiculous, but the rumour has yet to disappear.'

Of course, headmasters were the least interested in having someone prying into their affairs, which was predictable. Which leads to the second reason why he was here now.

Yes, in addition to controlling the political side of the issue, he had to personally deal with Hogwarts. As they say, if you want something to be done well, do it yourself. Especially since this something was trying to prevent the future Voldemort from creating new horcruxes and the end of the world itself. Big games in the style of Dumbledore are all well and good, but this situation was influenced by too many factors. And let's be honest – such complex productions had never been in the style of the Boy-who-lived-to-survive-again.

It was hard to deal with everything personally, but there was no other way. Now he understood why Dumbledore had been so distant and didn't take the time to explain anything when Harry needed him in his teenage years. Try finding a moment of peace here when you need to keep track of the curriculum, convince the Board of Trustees of the need for certain purchases, and answer all the questions to the Ministry.

Yes, at least the Headmaster did not have to attend classes with students to assess the level of education, unlike Harry, but Umbridge managed to teach at the same time! Either she was working on the energy of her own malice, or she was on stimulant potions twenty-four hours a day, or even the Time-turner would have been hard on her.

By the way, the Ministry finally gave Potter a Time-turner, reluctantly recognizing that he would not be able to work as a mentor for the foreigners and an Inquisitor simultaneously. It was only the second week of classes, and he already had a queue of petitioners from students who wanted to close their gaps in knowledge of the missing subjects at Hogwarts, and, oddly enough, parents who wanted to improve the level of knowledge and outlook in the magical sciences of their children in general. Potter happily sent the latter to the meetings of the ministry about educational reforms, but he had to be deal with the former himself, inventing the curriculum on the get-go.

The Inquisitor did not deceive himself, not even hoping to teach everyone everything necessary, as he had warned those interested in the beginning. But it was in his power to find enough connections abroad and convince the newcomers to share their knowledge for the sake of their own future generation of wizards. The magical communities of different countries have always been insanely reluctant to share knowledge, in this stubbornness resembling Muggles, of which Potter did not hesitate to tell them to their faces.

Politicians were not happy about this, to put it mildly. But what could they do if this arrogant wizard was right? All they could do, without taking the indignation of students’ parents who sought refuge in the foggy Albion on their head, was to put a stick in the wheels of educational reforms. And even this was done sluggishly, since most of the forces were delayed by the war.

In fact, Harry would like to continue without this boring showdown and stay away from Hogwarts until Tom Riddle finally left the castle walls. But there was one serious problem: he had managed to miss the moment of Myrtle's murder, even though he had hoped to have foreseen everything. Yes, with this it was worth blaming only yourself and remembering the example of Albus: even he did not manage to completely rake in the heat with someone else's hands.

He had to step into the game and make sure that young Voldemort did not make more horcruxes, complicating the already difficult life of the newly made High Inquisitor. There was another contender for the role of an additional obstacle: better left unmentioned, the not yet owner of the first-class Order of Merlin named Albus Dumbledore. One didn't have to be Trelawney to predict that the deputy director would not be happy with any initiative of the ministry. His "unhappiness" was expressed by sidelong glances and an invitation to tea. And if there was one thing Harry had ever understood, it was that it was easier to accept this invitation than to deal with the consequences of rejection. That was why, after talking to Violet, the Inquisitor went straight to the tea rendezvous.

'It is a pleasure to see you in my office,' Albus said, smiling politely, sitting at his desk and gesturing to the chair across from him. The office wasn't as impressive as the headmaster's in the future, Harry had expected to see lemon drops on the table, but it seems that the love for them is something that comes with age. Instead of sweets, there was only tea in neat cups.

'Good day to you, Deputy Headmaster. You wanted to see me?'

'Yes, of course. I would like to discuss all these new reforms with you as a direct participant.'

Harold nodded and walked over to the proffered seat. He knew in advance that he would not like this conversation, but the level of the problem was yet to be determined. Butting heads with a young Albus on the topic of approaches to education isn`t fun.

'What exactly would you like to discuss?'

The transfiguration Professor sighed:

'You see, for generations at Hogwarts we have been teaching and choosing our own programs. Yes, some people will consider this a disadvantage, but in many ways it is the best solution, which eliminates the excessive influence of the ministry. Not all changes are beneficial, especially if we are talking about something so time-tested. I only ask you to sensibly assess the pros and cons and not to succumb to the provocations of those who do not understand the true scale… People are often short-sighted and want to make changes for the sake of changing.'

'Oh, he sees the threat...' a hissing voice said.

Dumbledore continued:

'Besides, this is not the right time, we should focus on protecting children, not trying to make the ministry look better in the eyes of the voters. I have heard that you are a worthy person who can set their priorities correctly…'

The just Inquisitor adjusts his glasses and interrupts the speech with a wave of his hand:

'It's not my first day here, and I can see what you're trying to do. Thank you, but there is no need. I am one of the most ardent supporters of this reform, and we can endlessly drink tea on this topic, but my opinion will not change. Education reforms are not needed? Do you really think so? Now ask yourself: can we repeat the achievements of the wizards of the past?' His own annoyance flared, but Harry suppressed it. 'Let's say you can and a couple more people too. But isn't that an exception to the general rule? Don't you see a trend? We're getting smaller, and so are our talents. We are very limited. There are thousands of magical practices, but we only know nine at most. It's like living with a limited set of words, how much can you say? When you focus on the present , you forget about the future. Yes, the war takes priority. But it won’t last forever. All wars end, so what happens after?

'Bravo, kid. Now finish him off and tell him that we’re all going to die in the future,' said the same voice.

This time, Potter paid attention to the voice and abruptly closed his mouth. After a moment of stunned silence on Dumbledore's part, who clearly was not expecting such a tirade, there was a knock on the door.

'Come in,' the deputy headmaster said, looking at the door.

The Inquisitor knew perfectly well just who was standing at the threshold, he did not need to be in tune with the Hogwarts security spell or use magic to do it either. Tom Riddle stood in the doorway. Not a single unpleasant day of his life was complete without his presence . Fate seems to spit on all his attempts to avoid the Slytherin prefect.

'Mr. Riddle? What can I do for you?'

'Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore, Professor Slughorn asked me to find Mr. Powell,' Riddle said, pausing in the doorway with perfect politeness.

'Well, in that case, I can't keep him. Horace must have some important business to attend to,' said Dumbledore, nodding with a sigh.

It seems that he decided to take a timeout and reconsider his approach to communicating with the Inquisitor. Harry had had enough training as a professional auror in the past and future to avoid gritting his teeth in annoyance. He would have preferred this unpleasant conversation to going anywhere with Riddle right now.

He nodded and went to the exit, where the prefect was still standing, clearly intending to personally escort Slughorn’s guest. The Inquisitor raised his mental shields.

'And where is Slughorn waiting for me?'

'In the thirteenth lab, sir. Let me show you the way.'

Yes. His guesses were confirmed as his head began to ache slightly. Was it foolish to hope that a sixteen-year-old dark lord will be any less stubborn than a seventy-year-old?

Harry tried:

'Don't bother, I'll find my own way.'

'But sir, Professor Slughorn won't understand if you get lost somewhere in the forks of the dungeon.' The polite smile was supposed to convey a genuine desire to help, but the Inquisitor could only see it as an evil grin.

'The longer I bicker with him, the longer I spend my time in his company,' he thought wearily, and only nodded curtly.

'All right, lead on.'

Unfortunately, you can't just explain that you know the whole castle like the back of your hand if you're from the future and haven't technically studied here. Surprisingly, Riddle led him without a single comment. The only drawback was the headache from the raised shields grew with every second, as if under the pressure of a huge avalanche. If Potter hadn't been an Auror in the past, he would have thought it was a deliberate attack, but no. All the signs, except for the pressure on the shields, said that Tom didn't lift a finger in his direction.

An amazing phenomenon. For a test, Harold lowered his shields a little, just a little. And he felt... curiosity. It was clearly not his feeling, different, like clothes from someone else's shoulder. It was strange feeling. Curious, sharp as a hundred needles, interested in him and in the whole world around. Greedy. And beneath all that there was glee.

There was a raspy laugh that rippled down the hall and Harold froze.

'Mr. Powell?' Tom Riddle turned in surprise, noticing that the man had stopped.

'Hmm. Nothing,' Harold said quickly, and continued to walk.

Yes, nothing strange happened. It was just that Harold Powell, once Harry Potter, could hear the Dark Lord laughing in his head, despite him technically not existing yet.

This madness has been inevitable ever since Riddle created his first horcrux. Yes, this time it was probably harder for him to commit and cover up the crime with the efforts of Potter`s team, but the result was the same. Unfortunately, there was a certain circumstance that prevented the Inquisitor from simply pointing out the culprit of the incident and laying out all evidence, though there was a possibility. This enforced silence made Harry want to strangle the brat who had ruined the lives of Myrtle Warren and Rubeus Hagrid, but he couldn't. Merlin knows he really wanted to.

Fate was unfair and demanded that Tom Riddle continues to exist. She seemed to hate Harry Potter and everything he did.

***

For Tom Riddle things were going very well indeed. For some reason, Hogwarts’ security charms never saw him as a threat, and so the anti-eavesdropping spells placed on the teachers' private offices didn't work on him. Either that, or Dumbledore had deliberately taken them off before talking to Powell, which was a delusional assumption.

Well. Thanks to this remarkable feature and the reluctance to interrupt someone else's conversation in the middle out of pure politeness, the Slytherin prefect heard almost everything that was said in the deputy headmaster's office.

Dumbledore's words about child protection were almost infuriating. How could he talk about it if he still refused to fight, holed up at Hogwarts, and at the same time insist that all Muggleborns should be sent back to hell every summer? What the heck? How come no one noticed that Dumbledore is just a short-sighted old fool?

It was a relief to hear the Inquisitor`s speech and that he didn't even seem to want to listen to the Deputy director's position. Very few people refused to talk to a powerful wizard, and they also tried not to upset him, so that he wouldn`t suddenly change his mind to be a banner of hope against the aggressor. All these short-sighted people were too afraid to stand in the line of fire themselves, they were ready to agree to anything if someone else would protect them. Pathetic. Stupid.

This does not confirm that the Inquisitor did so from wisdom, however. But at least he had the courage. He cannot hold any political influence and not know about Dumbledore`s. If, that is, the rumors about his influence aren’t lying.

If all is as one can hope, then Harold Powell was a very valuable ally for the knights in the future. Someone with access not only to the ministry, but also to the Confederation of Magicians, someone who is not afraid to oppose the opinion of old Dumby. Someone who’s …very useful.

Riddle himself never planned to become the Minister of Magic, or even work in the ministry. Being the face of the official authorities is not a grateful task, knowing your face, someone may decide to "remove" you or influence you with potions, spells, threats. At the end of last year, after the fiasco with the basilisk, he decided that publicity is not favorable. As for working in the ministry itself – it's killing time on the small problems of small people, shuffling paper and a lot of vows and magical oaths, if you're going to do anything at all serious. Limitation and waste of time interfere with true greatness.

Riddle's plan was to firstly get the Hogwarts artifacts, and then expand his knowledge and become the next Defense against the Dark Arts teacher if Merrythought finally decides to retire. The old witch is a great teacher and is respected even by Tom himself, but if she has to be removed from her teaching chair… Well, in a little more than a year, he will do what is necessary.

Of course, then he will have to postpone the journey for the sake of studying magic, but... It seems that fate decided that it is too unfair to the heir of Slytherin to limit him in this need, and the knowledge with the appearance of the Inquisitor will float into his hands. In that case, it would only be wise to stay at Hogwarts.

However, it was also worth making sure that Powell isn’t an idiot, and his reforms will really receiving support. And also… Perhaps someone should suggest the direction of innovations?

Which schools do they study dark magic in? Durmstrang? It seems that the students of this school are now simply obliged to make friends with someone from Slytherin. There was someone who owed him, wasn’t there?

For the first time since the beginning of the holidays, Riddle felt as if everything was going his way, as if magic itself was on his side. Inspiring. It was as if pieces lined up on a magical chessboard were giving up and coming over to his side with a will of their own.

Suddenly the Inquisitor's footsteps, which had echoed in the silence of the underground corridors, stopped.

'Mr. Powell?' the prefect turned around in surprise.

In the torchlit corridor, Powell was no longer pale, but rather grayish. The man's blank gaze was fixed for a moment on the space further down the corridor, but he quickly regained his composure:

'It’s nothing,' he said, and continued on his way.

This time, Tom had to take several long strides to catch up with Harold. Weird. Tom was supposed to be the guide through the tangled corridors, not the other way around. The slight irritation that appeared quickly killed the feeling of exultation that had appeared before. This wizard has not yet earned his respect, but Riddle will have to work with what he has. It's going to be an interesting year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a new chapter. Did I manage to make it interesting?  
> As usual, I am happy to answer questions, if there are any.  
> Thank you for all the comments - this is great motivation to hurry up with the release of the new part.
> 
> I share with you some inspiring things:  
> Nefrito advises me for inspiration on the tracks: Für Elise-Epic Trailer Version  
> I also recommend listening to Game of Survival-Ruelle
> 
> And many thanks to James_Remus_Regulus_Black for beta-reading this work!


	3. The return of the Dark Knight and others

As it turned out, Riddle was right: Slughorn was actually waiting for the Inspector in Lab Thirteen. Even in the past, the atmosphere in the workrooms under Horace's guidance was very different from Snape`s gloom. It seems that potion makers were very fond of bringing their own order to the workspace. As an auror, Potter did not understand this approach: one could only guess how many signs of magic were left in the room, not to mention other evidence. Of course, the Head of Slytherin wasn't a criminal and didn't need to hide, but still...

The wizard in question was already there sitting at the faculty table and smiling affably.

'Oh, mister Powell. Come on in, come on in,' he nodded complacently, pointing to a transfigured upholstered chair next to the table, away from the cauldrons. 'Thank you for bringing him, Tom. You can go now,' the head nodded to the headboy.

'Glad to be of service, ' Riddle flashed his usual smile and left, allowing Harold to finally lower his shields and relax a little. The air felt sultry in the office, but it didn't hold a candle to the need to hold back someone else's wave of power.

'I hope I haven't distracted you from any important business, ' Horace smiled slyly, turning back to Harold.

'Don't worry about it. I was speaking with Professor Dumbledore, and he seemed happy to delay the conversation himself ' Harry snorted slightly, remembering the surprised look on the future headmaster's face.

'Oh, don't take his disbelief to heart: these are troubled times, you know. ' the potion master threw up his hands. 'And in the Ministry, you can’t trust anyone, you know, so everything he does is well-intentioned… Here, I remember, a good friend of mine…' Horace launched into a lengthy account of his incredibly useful contacts at the Ministry, which lasted for about fifteen minutes, and then he suddenly cast an inquisitive glance at his guest: 'What do you think of Grindelwald? '

For a moment, Harry was taken aback by the abrupt change of subject. All of a sudden about the Dark Lord? And this is despite the fact that the Inquisitor himself is whispered about somewhere as a spy for Gellert? Has Slughorn lost all his cunning somewhere? Or is Potter not the only one going insane?

And then Harry, startled by a sudden realization, sniffed cautiously and almost burst out laughing. The air smelled faintly of tincture of herbs: the scent of lovage and scurvy grass was obvious. It was easy to put these two ingredients together and figure out the third: apparently a pot of an Intoxicating solution was brewing nearby, promising dizziness, confusion, and recklessness by its very smell to all but those who were trained to tolerate its fumes.

So that's why their meeting was in the lab! This is a test. This conversation with Slughorn was ridiculously similar to the game of `good cop` to Dumbledore’s ‘bad cop’, it should not be forgotten that they two are old friends and clearly worthy of each other.

Surely these two aging schemers could not know that their "opponent" was a trained auror who could no longer be affected by such tricks. If they had a ministry rat in front of them, of course, all the secrets would have been spilled by now. However, he must be cautious: Grindelwald's spy is also expected to be resistant to potions.

Potter wasn't the best actor, but there was no choice:

'Grindelwald? ' Powell asked, batting his eyes a little dazedly. "His actions are terrible. I never understood all the killing, the hate… I wish it would all stop.”

For good measure, he rubbed his eyes, as if it was difficult to keep his concentration on the conversation.

'Yes, it's all awful,' Slughorn said. 'Although some people find his idea of dominating Muggles intriguing. On the other hand, the abolition of the Statute of Secrecy will allow the practice of a wide variety of magic…'

Harry almost coughed with indignation. So that's how Dumbledore and his team came to the ingenious conclusion that Powell could be a spy for the lord! They built a logical chain from the wrong end and came up with completely wrong answers. Although… What’s funny, is they were partly right. The Inquisitor was somewhat forced to ensure the Dark Lord's victory. But not this one…

'Repealing the Statute is the stupidest thing that could be done, ' Harry exclaimed, unable to contain his irritation. 'If it comes to that, I'll go and fight the whole gang of the idiot's henchmen who try to do it! '

A look of surprise crossed Slughorn's face: it seemed that Potter was continuing his tendency to shock the Hogwarts teachers who thought of themselves as Dumbledore's staff.

'And you're not afraid? '

Harry sighed and answered evasively:

'There are worse causes to die for. '

He wanted to confide in someone that he hadn't been afraid of death for quite some time, but this was definitely not the time or place. Anyone he could tell was far away in the future, which might not even come to be. The longing for the old days reawakened, poisoning the mind.

'I have a headache, ' Powell suddenly complained to the potioner. Suffering under an 'effect' of the Intoxicating solution was a reasonable excuse to escape.

'Oh, yes, even with young people this happens sometimes', - Horace grinned without malice, as if it was not him who had previously blocked all the hoods in the lab, accumulating the vapors of the potion that pressed on the unprepared person. 'Let me lend you a concoction out of friendship? '

'I won't need any enemies with friends like that', Harry thought wearily, but he said, 'No, thanks, I've got some stuff in my stock. And in fact, I`ve got a lot of things to do'. 

Slughorn showed no displeasure, but nodded, complaining about 'the poor Inquisitor 's terrible workload'. Potter felt that if Voldemort had a voice in his head right now, he would have asked something like, 'When did Hogwarts turn into this silly Dumbledore theater? ' And Potter would have replied: 'And you are then a star of the first magnitude!’ But Voldemort was silent, which was good for everyone's peace of mind.

Crawling out of the dungeons, Powell felt a strong desire to get drunk and at least for the evening tell everything to go to hell, because these conversations accidentally poked into unhealed wounds. But there was no time to relax. While Dumbledore and his Order of the not-yet-Phoenix regained consciousness and discussed the information they had received – he had to make his move.

The decision was obvious, and the Inquisitor`s feet carried him to Headmaster Dippet's office.

***

After finishing his duties, the exemplary headboy Tom Riddle finally went to deal with his own business, trying not to pay attention to the sudden slight headache. In Slytherin's living room, his knights were sitting in the most casual manner, pretending to be very busy with something. In fact, not all of the faculty knew who really set the tone and mood in this company, and Riddle did not try to convince anyone. This saved a great deal of time and helped to get rid of most idiotic ones.

A couple of lengthy phrases about studying were enough for the representatives of the inner circle to catch the hint, and one by one they began to crawl out of the dungeon into the abandoned hall that the knights had used for their studies. Their small personal fortress, hung with all the spells that the brilliant headboy knew and managed to dig up from the libraries of ancient families.

The room was spacious, furnished minimally, but in the spirit of the Middle Ages: carved benches on the sides and thick columns. The magnificent acoustics only added to the solemnity of the meetings, echoing any loudly spoken word. There were no windows, but torches did an excellent job of lighting up room.

'So,' Riddle waved his hand and lit the torches in the hall, a familiar show of strength. 'Today we have several issues to discuss. And the first one: where the hell is Lestrange? It's already the second week of the school year. Has he decided to drop out of further studies?'

The end of the sentence was so icily quiet that Black and Nott both shivered. It was no secret to either of them that Tom wouldn't keep uneducated dullards who couldn't even finish school with him.

'He sent a letter to inform that he was delayed due to some family difficulties, but he promised to be here any day, ' said Malfoy, walking hesitantly further into the hall. Though their leader seemed to recognize the inner circle as equals, none of them actually believed that much when Riddle was in a bad mood.

'Let's hope so. Otherwise, we would urgently need a replacement, ' the headboy's face was impassive. 'All right. Question two: when will we have the information on Powell? ' His gaze now turned to Nott.

'I think by the end of the week, ' Richard shivered slightly, 'Lord,' he added hesitantly.

The knights didn't often fawn over Riddle, but when they noticed such mood swings for the worse, it was easier to do that to protect their own skin, not to accidentally become a target.

Sometimes their submissiveness made Tom even more infuriated, reminding him that they, too, were weak, ready to follow anyone who seemed stronger. In some perverse form, the Slytherin Heir even felt responsible for them, obliged to be the strongest, so that his 'sheep' would not go astray.

'All right, ' Riddle said, moving further away to the semblance of their private round table. The knights wanted but couldn’t put an altar in their training hall, so they made do with a half-measure: a large stone table with inscribed runes was a good compromise.

'And the third question: what do you think of the refugees?'

This time Black took the opportunity to speak:

'There are a couple of interesting Frenchmen who had almost finished their studies at Beauxbatons before they escaped, there are fewer students from Durmstrang, and I also heard that some half-educated girl from the Salem Witch Institute has joined us. So far, no one has proved themselves, except for the one kid from Durmstrang: they say he broke some griff's nose with a magic staff, swinging it like a cudgel.'

Riddle's brow went up of its own accord. In Hogwarts, all sorts of things happened, but to use magic items like this… to beat stupid griffs… And not feel sorry for the artifact... It seems that the Durmstrang students were just as wild as they were said to be. If Lestrange does return, then maybe he will have competitors for the title of Dark Knight.

'I want one of you to remind Alan Avery of his debt. If he can manage to ingratiate himself with one of Durmstrang's senior students, I'll consider giving him an early promotion, ' the headboy drawled.

The knights exchanged glances. They were very jealous of the reception of new people in the inner circle, since the last year someone was accepted only in place of the previous participant, whose fate was… unenviable. Lestrange was the most obvious candidate for relegation right now, but things could change dramatically with his return.

'And,' "their leader added, grinning maliciously, 'If I notice that you're sabotaging Avery on this mission... ' he chuckled significantly, and the knights became even more nervous. 'I think you can guess what might happen.'

In the torchlight, the calm gaze of the heir of the great Salazar was particularly frightening. It was easy to believe that he knew and could live out the worst nightmares of anyone who got in his way. His magic played a part in this, as did the way the runes on the altar table flickered with a faint light as he slowly walked around it.

'Now I'll tell you what I've learned, ' Riddle continued matter-of-factly.

One head is good, but three: well, better than nothing, if they're not brainless. And Tom did not choose just anyone to be his knight, each of the chosen ones was good at something different.

'Our Inquisitor turned out to be an ideological opponent of old Dumbledore in matters of education. I do not know if he is clever, but he sounded very convincing. Which makes your assignment even more important, Richard. And also, I will ask you, Alphard, to use your kin.…'

'You want to intimidate him?' Black's eyes flashed with a wild fire, and he bared his teeth.

'Just to see what he's like, ' Tom said, shaking his head. With the mad Black family, it will be possible to start an international scandal, or even accidentally kill Powell.

'All right, all right, we'll be as hospitable as Blacks could!'

'Knowing your hospitality,' snorted Malfoy.

'Oh, don't say that... ' Black started to protest, but shut up under Riddle's irritated gaze.

'Just check it out. Abraxas, find out what they say in the Ministry, what reforms are being prepared. We should have enough information by the time the Slug Club meets. And this is my first and last word on this issue. If this mission does not seem important enough to you, I will begin to doubt about your membership in the circle.…'

The knights looked down in silence at the rune-carved table, where a furrow formed a circle around the edge. Oh, they definitely didn't want to lose it all, and their leader was able to take everything, even memories, like no one else. Their king clapped his hands, breaking the daze:

'I remember I promised to show you something interesting…'

In the closed hall, a wind blew out of nowhere. The teenagers ' eyes lit up with anticipation.

***

The weekend passed quickly as Malfoy and Nott tried to reassure Alphard, who finally realized that if Lestrange did not return to Hogwarts at all, the Slytherin Quidditch team would have to urgently find a new seeker. Riddle always refused to participate in this seemingly useless activity, preferring voluntary seclusion in the forbidden section to a farce. His company has long understood this, and tried not to annoy the headboy anymore, he was pestered enough as it is with various requests by students of various courses and faculties, as well as the teachers.

Monday began with Black suddenly forgetting the rule - 'don't mess with Riddle when he's busy' - and after lunch he suddenly fell out from behind a pillar, blocking the way of the headboy with the most disheveled and insane look.

'Mordred! Tom, I -' he began, and was silenced by a disapproving look. Only now did Alphard finally notice that the Hufflepuff’s headgirl had been standing next to Riddle all this time.

Slightly lagging behind Black, who was flying like a mad bludger through the corridors of Hogwarts, Malfoy and Nott arrived, but remained to watch the scene behind the column.

'I'm listening, Alphard. ' Riddle said.

'I... I seem to have forgotten to take from you my notes on the Transfiguration. '

Tom cocked his head to one side, silently asking if he understood what nonsense it was to even suggest that a well-known Hogwarts honors student and a favorite of teachers would suddenly need someone else's notes.

'Why did Merlin send us that idiot? ' whispered Abraxas to Nott, feeling a strong desire to either apparate away from here, or grab Black by the scruff of the neck and drag him away.

'Hmm. I think I remember something like that. I'll check it out tonight, okay?' Tom's voice betrayed nothing but mild concern, but his eyes promised consequences. 'Come on, Millie.'

The Hufflepuff nodded, and they were about to continue down the corridor, but Black grabbed the sleeve of Riddle's robe. Now, the look he cast over his shoulder was truly infuriated.

'This is very important,' Alphard's movements were jerky, but his voice was confident.

Merlin could see that the knights behind the pillar were praying inwardly that Millie Albarn wasn't clever, because Black was clearly not talking about the transfiguration notes.

Turning back to the headgirl, Riddle had successfully suppressed all signs of irritation in his eyes and smiled warmly:

'I'm terribly sorry, but it seems that Alphard is in desperate need of these notes. I'll join the prefect meeting a little late, will you tell everyone I'm sorry?'

Millie nodded and told him not to stay too long, remaining completely unaware that her pleasant-looking partner was actively suppressing a rising wave of rage. Not only was he going to be late for the prefects meeting because of his stupid knights, but some girl dared to tell him what to do! Black's problem had better be really important.

'So, ' he said coldly to Alphard, watching as he finally let go of the edge of his sleeve. Now Malfoy and Nott crawled out from behind the column and joined the group, receiving no less "warm" glances from their leader. Together they moved to a hidden alcove at the back of the hallways.

'I was summoned to the fireplace by aunt Lycoris. She had never been so angry, he ... he turned us down! Turned down the house of Black! Pissed them all off!'

'Pull yourself together, Alphard,' Riddle almost hissed. 'Tell me exactly what happened.'

'I've done everything. I asked my relatives to- to put pressure on the new Inquisitor, to find out what is possible. He... he just waved it off! My aunt was yelling like a mad Manticore that this damn Powell dared to ignore our kind and didn't even care about the possibility of taking one of the Blacks as a personal pupil!' Alphard whispered it furiously, barely able to keep from shouting, and waved his arms throughout his speech. He didn't know why the hell his aunt had decided to offer this wizard one of children as an apprentice, but it was a terrible insult to refuse.

Riddle's eyes narrowed slightly as he took in the new information. There was something more important in all this than the insult to Blacks…

'I have something to say, too, ' Nott said suddenly. Everyone's attention turned to him.

'My father has sent a letter implying that he absolutely forbids any interest in Lord Powell and his political group. Here,' he took a letter from the pocket of his robe, which immediately passed into the hands of the headboy.

In the letter, Nott's father mentioned that some distant relatives had sent him their best wishes and sincere concern about Richard's interest in a certain political group that he should not have been interested. It also said that it was better not to mess with a certain lord for one’s own good. There was no direct mention of the Inquisitor, but the message was very clear.

'But who, damn him, is this Powell?!' Black was still raging, pacing nervously back and forth as far as the size of the alcove would allow. However, it seems that he was minutely pacified with the insult to his ancient house by the fact that the Nott family seems to have been dealt the same fate.

'I haven't received anything as of yet,' said Malfoy, as Tom turned to look at him. Perhaps there was still hope that his family would learn something.

Riddle didn't consider the situation a failure: they hadn't learned everything they wanted, but it was still something to start from. From the faces of his knights, he could tell that they were going through what looked like an existential crisis at the complete denial: they were not idiots, but for the first time in their lives, they were faced with the fact that the influence of their families could mean nothing to some people.

Even Tom himself grudgingly admitted that he had noticed his proteges at first because of their families, and only after he had seen their personal qualities, even if others thought otherwise.

***

The next morning Lestrange finally returned to Hogwarts. Over the holidays, Rodolphus had grown taller and paler, but as quickly as before, he went to his seat at the Slytherin table as soon as he saw Riddle and the knights.

'Welcome back, Rudy, we thought we'd never see you again,' Malfoy smiled, but the coolness in his voice clearly hinted the real mood of the company about the triumphant return of their Dark Knight.

'Nice to see you all, too,' Lestrange said, looking at Tom separately. 'My parents wouldn't let me go to Hogwarts at first. They... had a lot to do this summer.'

'A lot to do? It would be very intere”p the snake's contemptuous hiss very well when he wanted to.

Tom Riddle was pointedly silent, letting the knights sort it out by themselves. It quickly dawned on Rodolphus that he was out of favor. A quick glance at the headboy, who was incredibly focused on his breakfast, made him start to ramble:

'I'll explain everything! I think it's really important! A wizard came to the manor this summer, I didn't see his face, but it was someone really powerful, I've never seen anything like it, I swear... I…'

'Very interesting, I would like to also listen.'

Rodolphus stopped in mid-sentence and turned his gaze to the unknown wizard, who was now standing behind Riddle and had managed to approach without making a sound.

'Although I guess school talks isn't for my ears.' Harold Powell adjusted his glasses and gave the nastiest smile he'd ever seen in an Umbridge-toad performance. 'Have a nice day, boys. '

With a glare from under his glasses, he went to the faculty table.

'What was that just now? ' Black gasped.

The entire group froze, and the other Slytherins were already casting curious glances at them. Tom Riddle himself was surprised that someone had approached him from behind without arousing the slightest suspicion or hesitation of magic, and that the headboy himself had managed not to flinch at the unexpected sound of a voice so close to him.

'If I understand anything, ' said Malfoy, when he was able to speak again. 'We've just been told to keep quiet. '

'You think that…' Nott glanced at the Inquisitor, who was now happily discussing something with Merrythought at the faculty table.

'Obviously, what we think needs to be kept to ourselves for the time being.' Riddle interrupted sternly.

He did not react visibly at all. Everything is under control, he will certainly sort it out, because any doubt is damage to his image in the eyes of the knights.

The pieces of the puzzle in his head were spinning feverishly at different angles. Representatives of the strongest families are afraid to talk about Harold Powell, forbid their children to even think about him…

So far, all indications show that the wizard who visited the Lestranges might have been the Inquisitor, but he would have made Rodolphus, who didn't know about the rumors, less alarmed, and Dumbledore would have been identified. There was... Grindelwald? Whose interests seem to have been defended by Harold Powell. Was the Inquisitor an ideological opponent of Dumbledore in a broader sense? Did he despise Muggles? Did he have a voice in the Dark Lord's army? Oh, how Riddle wanted to know.

Unfortunately, or fortunately, Harold Powell had no idea what the younger version of Voldemort wanted at the moment. Instead, he tried to simultaneously listen to an entertaining story from the local Defense professor and ignore the scratching presence of this youngest version of Voldemort. Added to this were Dumbledore's tentative attempts to take an interest in the Inquisitor 's thoughts, but compared to the overwhelming pressure of Riddle's very existence, they looked like a polite knock on the door waiting for an invitation.

Resigned to his fate, Potter idly wondered how much money he could make if he developed a tea-flavored headache potion. Or coffee. Even the taste of pumpkin juice, which is still boring at school, will do. The plan was simple: first create a monopoly on production, take over all the beverage markets, and then use the money to buy the entire ministry. And there, the capture of the world would be just around the corner.

In a colorful picture of Harry happily drowning Grindelwald and Riddle's horcruxes in an invented potion, Merrythought noticed that her interlocutor was not too attentive:

'Mr. Powell, are you all right? ' she asked.

Harold finally focused on her:

'Oh, of course, I'm sorry. I was thinking about business. You know… So many useful potions have not yet been invented! How much we could achieve if the school curriculum included an in-depth study of potions from different countries!'

'Sometimes it amazes me how much time you spend working, ' the witch sighed. 

'I love teaching madly, but you also need to rest. You look very pale. And I don't think I'm wrong if I assume that you're almost constantly using sedative potions.'

Harry sighed. Galatea was an experienced woman who had studied Defense in practice, but if she had noticed, then someone else might have noticed.

'I know that being young gives you the strength not to think about yourself, but please, ' she continued. 'Don't overdo it. You can't get your health back.'

'If Voldemort could have heard you, ' thought the Inquisitor, but he only nodded under the worried gaze of the elderly witch.

***

Breakfast was in full swing when Dippet slowly rose from his director's throne and said with a couple of loud claps of his hands:

'May I have your attention, please? Yesterday, Mr. Powell approached me with an interesting suggestion, which I immediately agreed to. Inquisitor, I give you the floor.'

Harold smiled and got up from his seat:

'Good morning, everyone. As the headmaster said, he accepted my offer for an open lesson. Students of all yeargroups who would like to learn more about magic and the reasons why the Ministry is considering changing the curriculum are invited. The lesson will be held tomorrow afternoon. The visit is free, I only hope for your desire to be more knowledgeable and decide for yourself what you can use in life. Thanks.'

The Inquisitor sat down, and breakfast continued, with the students whispering to each other.

Riddle's eyes narrowed. The move itself was quite good. To play on the desire of teenagers to make their own decisions while they are out of the sight of their parents is generally elegant, given that by refusing to be forced, the Inquisitor thus cleared himself of suspicion of ulterior motives. Which, of course, were there. Tom would have done it himself if he was going to recruit kids.

Which... in a way, put the headboy himself in a dangerous position. He certainly didn't want to put his knights and his entire faculty in the service of some Dark Lord. He wanted to be that lord himself, and the children of the ancient lineages were the perfect target, no matter how you looked at it. Mordred, let be damned this Grindelwald and his ubiquitous spies.

It would be foolish and dangerous to enter into an open confrontation: even the powerful Lestrange family was afraid to lock themselves in the manor, so it was worth being much more careful. And why resort to direct impacts? Why did he even think about such obvious resistance? Why did he start losing your temper? It wasn't his style. Plotting, staying in the shadows until the right moment – that was what Salazar's Heir was good at. And this time he will do the same.

The Knights will know all about the Inquisitor before the Club meets. Or someone will die. As it happened, Tom Riddle had at times misjudged his own coolness.

***

Many were looking forward to the open lesson. Opinions were very different: some were seized with the opportunity to learn something about other magical cultures, others proudly turned up their noses, claiming that nothing could be better than Hogwarts. Older students from families close to the ministry saw this as an interesting political move. They had already begun to hear from their own families that the new reforms were not so obvious, and some were hoping to unravel the Inquisitor 's plan.

Oh, if only they really knew…

The lesson was held in the magic-enhanced Defense against the Dark Arts class, which was kindly provided by Merrythought. Harry was still at a loss as to whether she saw him as her hypothetical son or grandson, but the old sorceress's obvious affection was quite pleasant – he had never had a kind but strict grandmother.

Students were slowly gathering in the hall, almost all of them refugees, who considered it almost their duty to follow the Inquisitor in his endeavors. Which was no wonder: in the eyes of these children, he was still the only adult who could be trusted by their parents.

In addition to the foreigners, there were also many Hogwarts students from various yeargroups, and, of course, Tom Riddle and his entourage were also in the crowd. By this time, Potter was ready, having stashed more than one bottle of sedatives in the folds of his robes. I wonder how many vials of potion he can drink before it starts to look weird?

Memory helpfully threw up the image of the substituted Moody, who liked to obnoxiously sip his potion. No, this is clearly not the comparison that he would like to get for himself.

When everyone was finally settled in their seats, Powell walked to the center of the audience and began his speech:

'Welcome to the open lesson. Thank you to everyone who came. For those who are not present today, I send thanks too, I am sure you will find what is happening interesting. ' At these words, some of the students looked at each other in bewilderment. Harry tried not to grin: he was more than sure that the memories of the lesson would later be studied with interest in the Pensieve, or even just in the head of someone present.

'I will begin our lesson with a question that, it would seem, has nothing to do with reforms: in your opinion, why are the ancient families so respected? After all, there are rich half-blood families who do business in the Muggle world. So why? '

He grimaced at the forest of raised hands.

'Don't tell me about the value of pure blood. That's not the question. '

'You don't appreciate the purity of blood, Inquisitor? ' Someone in the audience called out.

Harry chuckled and walked around the room, wondering how best to convey this moment to the audience:

'It's just not about the question. Imagine that you are a pure-blooded mage in pixie only knows what generation, but the predecessors have squandered all the money and reputation, and you personally did not come out with talents. What makes you and your family valuable in this situation? What heritage is valued above all else? What is passed down from generation to generation in people who are not related by blood, but by surname? '

The students whispered in interest, but only one of the teenager’s hand was raised after barely a minute when the question was asked. One day, Harry Potter will no longer be surprised at how quickly the growing Dark Lord navigate in any situation.

'Yes, Mr. Riddle?'

'Knowledge, sir, ' said the headboy, looking very serious. 'If I were a wizard from an ancient family who had no respect and no money left, there would still be the transmitted knowledge and talents of the family.'

The situation was also funny because this hypothetical situation was a reality for Riddle. Although Salazar's family was respected, he was more of a legend than a real political force. Realizing the irony of the moment, Harry smiled wryly:

'That's right. Books, manuscripts, some skills, memories – all this is passed from hand to hand in ancient families. Most wizards keep them to emphasize their status and remember their former greatness, many of them never even open them. They keep it for the very fact of its existence. But let's imagine this: there will be a sharp drop in all currencies, a crisis in which your status will be nothing. The end of the world, war – whatever. What will happen? Everyone will burn or lose these books, artifacts, just for the sake of surviving, untapped knowledge will turn to dust... Is this the right thing to do?'

He looked around the classroom.

'Possession for possession's sake. Yes, someone can really get carried away with it, but doesn't the stored object then lose its meaning? Is knowledge written down in order to lie on a shelf for eternity, and then rot away?' Powell's voice grew deeper, deeper, and forced them to listen to the last words. Noticing this, the mage took something out of the pocket of his robe.

The children were quiet for the time being, thinking about what they had heard. Many of them could recall at least one or two volumes in their family libraries that their parents had forbidden them to touch, because it was a "legacy" that could only be passed on to the next generation, but never used, never read, never even opened.

Taking advantage of his audience's preoccupation, Harry took a sip of the potion, cleared his throat, and continued:

'And now I will show you the proof of my words. Right now, in Britain, we barely master the elements, while the wizards from France,' a slight nod to the group of students, 'are among the best at conquering the wind. And I'm not talking about Quidditch. Have you ever thought about what it's like to fly without a broom?'

Many of them looked at the students from France in surprise, and Riddle's eyes lit up with genuine interest. He had been interested in this branch of magic for a long time, had been practicing it on the sly, but so far, he hadn't even thought about flying on his own.

'Interesting, isn't it?' Powell smiled at the children, then beckoned to one of the French group. 'Miss Attal, would you mind coming to me?'

'Of course, sir,' the young Frenchwoman said with an accent, and rose gracefully from her seat, stepping into the center of the audience.

'Thank you,' Powell said, and continued. 'Miss Attal has kindly agreed to demonstrate her skill to all of us. '

The girl nodded, and, carefully holding the uniform robe with her hands, calmly and smoothly lifted herself off the floor. At the same time, she did not even think of waving her wand and reciting spells. She wished and flied. After hanging in the air for a short time, the girl then sank down next to the Inquisitor, showing no sign of fatigue.

'Thank you for the demonstration,' he nodded again, and the young sorceress returned to her seat. 'Miss Attal was taught this art at school from an early age. The French, in principle, are mostly inclined to wind magic, but do not think that we, British wizards, simply do not have such talents. If you think that Hogwarts was built by goblins or other magical creatures, you are wrong. The founders used all the subordinate elements and especially the earth and built castle themselves.'

He waved his hands around the room, drawing the children's attention to the gigantic walls of the castle, steeped in magic.

'And now think about it: do you know at least one wizard builder? Is this specialty considered as a profession at all, or will anyone immediately say with slight disdain: 'Well, this is for goblins... '? And yet some of the greatest magical structures were built by magicians, for example, Ilvermorny was also built independently.'

Harry adjusted his glasses, ignoring the headache:

'Of course, someone will say: and why not give this difficult task to someone else, not wizards. Why not make your life easier? Why do this at all? After all, we are supreme creatures, blessed with magic itself,' he said pathetically, clearly mimicking someone. 'But here's the thing: what you build yourself, on your own magic, will live with you, fight on your side, guard you more than any enchantment. Don't you still want to learn?' he smiled charmingly. 'Raise your hands if I've managed to interest you in learning the elements. '

Timidly, at first only a couple of hands rose into the air, but then their number grew and gradually looking at each other, the hands raised by almost all of them.

'Thank you. I see that you have perfectly understood the purpose of the reforms that are currently taking place: We want to give you and future generations of wizards the opportunity to expand your skills far beyond the current ones. I will not give false hopes: achieving this is our common cause and is unlikely to happen in one day. If the Ministry allows, the program will primarily include such introductory lessons, on the basis of which we will make the first specialized classes. Now it's up to you. Your future depends on you.'

'Can we -' one of the Ravenclaw girls raised her hand timidly. 'Discuss it with your parents?'

Powell nodded emphatically:

'Of course. I don't impose any restrictions. You are free to share this lesson and the memory of it with anyone you wish.'

The answer caused a new wave of whispers: not everyone knew about the very possibility of sharing memories. This was another ignorance that needed to be eradicated.

The knights reacted differently to everything they heard. Malfoy glanced at the Inspector cautiously: the last sentence was a clear hint that the man was not just allowing it, he wanted this lesson to become public. Black was almost ready to rush off to the owl house to send letters to his numerous relatives demanding the release of ancient books and other artifacts, which, as it turned out, were gathering dust for nothing. Nott chewed on the end of his feather, wondering if he should say anything at all to his family after his father's letter. Lestrange stared into space in front of him, and his mind was clearly somewhere other than Hogwarts.

Tom Riddle, unlike all of them, spent most of the lecture writing something down in his diary, and only the headboy himself knew that the diary also answered. As it turned out, this is incredibly convenient, to divide your consciousness into two equal parts. And although their approach to the problems was the same, it was possible to throw the efforts of two people at the same time to think about different areas. This was a new level of multitasking.

'Well, that's it. You are all dismissed,' the Inquisitor said at last, pulling the opaque phial out of his robe pocket again and sauntering out of the classroom.

That was the end of the lesson. And no matter whose supporter he was, the effect was indelible: The owl house was more popular than ever that day, and in the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw's living room they had to set up a queue for conversations through fireplace. It was a good thing that the Slytherins were more concerned about the privacy of their conversations, and the Hufflepuff simply preferred not to rush.

Going to meet Hepzibah Smith, Harry Potter wishes all the best to Dumbledore, Riddle and Grindelwald in their attempts to unravel his true motives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave comments. They really motivate me!


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